The Laundry of Hands
by that is secret
Summary: White Drabblebook piece (Sanoshin); Kenshin does a bit of philosophizing on laundry, cleansing, and Sano.


A/N: Elemental challenge fic for temps_mort. I kind of have an obsession with not only Sanoshin, but with Kenshin cleaning his hands and assigning elemental qualities to characters - so, you know, the elemental challenge was right up my alley. What can I say? So much fun. ;-)  
  
"The Laundry of Hands"  
  
I sink my hands into the water. It is slick and sudsy, and the clothes are rough in my hands. As strange as it sounds, I love doing the laundry. I doubt that Kaoru-dono notices; she probably thinks I do it just as part of my exchange for staying here at the dojo. But I really do love it, that I do.  
  
The way the clothes swish around is soothing, and it becomes almost like meditation. I can let my mind wander when I'm washing these clothes; I can think. After all, how many people really disturb me when I'm doing the laundry? If no one thinks I like it, then there's no way they're going to keep me from a "chore".   
  
Even when the clothes are all washed, I stay. I keep my hands in this soapy water and I wash them. I always do this; it's as if I wash the clothing and my hands long enough, neither will be stained anymore. Both will be clean and fresh and ready for tomorrow. The clothes become clean, like always; somehow they always come out of the dirty water looking new.   
  
But my hands, not my hands - even if I can see the blood swirling around the soap bubbles, my hands are never clean. They will always be like this, always tainted and stained and wrinkled from too many hours in water that will never wash my sins away.   
  
He's the only one who notices. Only Sano. How many times has he crept out here and pulled my hands out of the water with his, dipping into the water, fingers lacing with mine? How many? He comes and sits behind me, his legs to either side of me, knees pressing into my hips, and he wraps his arms around my waist and leans into my back. He likes to hold me, pull me in and envelop me like that. It's comforting, being almost surrounded by him; being able to smell him and feel him all around, and to have his hair brush against my cheek when he leans over and kisses the side of my neck.  
  
Sano is strange. The more I'm around him, the more I learn that I know less and less about him. He's like a mountain river - deep and swift and strong, and always different from the last time you saw him. And despite the fact that the water is clear and you can see to the bottom, you never realize the currents you're daring until you step in, until you've been carried away on wings of water. You never realize how chill the waters are, and how utterly pure even though you've polluted them by your presence. He looks so calm, so laid-back, all the time, but underneath he's swirling and flowing and ever-changing. When he lets go and shows those currents, it's like watching water crash over the rocks, into a deep deep pool of the soul. It's so precious, something to be cherished like any other waterfall. When he opens up and lets me in, it's as if I'm swimming in the river, glorying in the feel of it on my skin and in my hair and even between my toes.  
  
And sometimes I wonder, as he pulls me into his lap and runs his now-wet hand under my shirt, leaving little droplets on my chest, if maybe he's the only one who can clean me. He and his kisses and his odd patience with me. Somehow, I don't feel tainted when I'm with him. I can still see the blood, but it doesn't matter as much; it seems to fade to a pale pinkish tint, instead of the rusty brightness that floats among the laundry. He's like a divine spring, one that cleanses the soul and erases your sins and washes away the darkness. A divine river. Every time I'm with him, it's like stepping into those waters for the first time - always fresh and beautiful and comforting and alive.   
  
He makes me feel like everything's going to be alright.  
  
Like he could wash my sins away.   
  
:::do your laundry::: 


End file.
